


i'm hoping you weren't heaven sent

by beware_of_you



Series: only love [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: it's sad, it's the only perspective we all wanted to see but never got, sorry x, this whole series is just angst guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:01:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25288738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beware_of_you/pseuds/beware_of_you
Summary: a look into jj's thoughts and struggles as she waits for the outcome of emily's condition after being attacked by ian doyle
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss
Series: only love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838533
Comments: 6
Kudos: 88





	i'm hoping you weren't heaven sent

Waiting.

If there's one thing JJ hates to do, it's wait.

How long had she been sitting in this dimly lit narrow hallway, separated by the remaining members of the BAU only by the secured double doors at the end of the corridor? The staff only let two people back here; the only reason she was here and not someone like Morgan or Rossi is because she rode in the back of the ambulance.

Hotch was back here only because he was unit chief. Where he has gone, she has no idea. She's been alone for a while now.

At least, she thinks it's been a while.

She forces herself to observe her surroundings for the 30th time in the past—again, who knows how long.

The walls and floors are a bright white, yet are somehow muted by the eerie blue lights that line the ceiling. It makes the whole atmosphere feel cold and unwelcoming, like she's in another hostile dimension. There's a clock on the wall behind the empty nurse's station that ticks by to fill the silence. The movements of the arms seem unnaturally slow and echo throughout the barren halls as if to taunt her.

_Tick-tock._

_Tick-tock._

_Tick-tock._

She swears she's slowly going insane.

She folds in on herself in the uncomfortable chair, bringing her knees up to her chest and pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. She releases a shuddering breath, gripping onto the long strands of her hair firmly to ground herself.

How many minutes had passed since they arrived to the hospital? Minutes? Hours? Days? She seriously can't properly judge how much time has passed when a minute feels like it passes by like _hours_.

She exhales shakily, tears springing to her eyes and wetting her palms. Everything she's been through in the past five months up, piled up with what happened today, is finally catching up to her.

The job Strauss had forced her into, and that she only had allowed herself to take _because of Henry,_ had not in fact given her more time with her son. She doesn't work a stone throw away in an office, doesn't get to see Henry every single night and tuck him in with a bedtime story. Her attempts to be a better mother had completely failed. She's further away from her son than she ever had been at the BAU. She's lucky if she gets to FaceTime him once a day from the base while he stays with her mom.

The "state department" reassignment was a complete ruse that sent her overseas as an agent in a top secret assignment. She had been tasked with building a rapport and gathering information on a terrorist cell from a woman the team had in their custody. But the woman was inconsolable, completely unreachable and withdrawn. The only thing that seems to be giving her any form of comfort is a small doll she constantly had on her.

JJ completely understood the woman's _grief_ of being without her child, sympathized heavily and pushed for the team to do something to rescue the daughter. She argued that, logically, they couldn't gather information on the woman if she wasn't talking. Maybe having her daughter safely would give her that push to finally break. (Reuniting the woman with her daughter is what JJ sees as right anyway, information be damned. She hates walking into the camp every morning to see the woman overcome with so much grief that the doll she grips does little to console her.)

JJ eventually had organized a raid for the team to go and save the woman's daughter.

Failure.

She watched the mission completely turn into a shitstorm right before her very eyes. What little hope for success she had crumpled to dust when she saw the explosion occur on the body cam of just one of the group of soldiers that had died as a direct result of her actions.

She had found the woman dead in the home she was being kept in moments later, body stiff and cold. Murdered in cold blood.

It had been too much for her to handle. It was too _much_.

She had left the room and gone out the door, vomiting on the ground violently because of all the stress, because of all the people that died because of her in such a short time, because she knows it's all _her_ fault.

Another _fucking_ failure.

And now this, in the hospital waiting for any updates on Emily after she had gone face to face with Ian Doyle all by herself. She had read the man's file on the flight back to the states, knows just how fucking _dangerous_ he is. She understands why Emily went after him by herself—maybe if she weren't in a similar situation herself, she would be a bit more angry but she just _can't_.

Regardless of what she understands, it was incredibly reckless of Emily to do. But it doesn't mean she deserved to be staked. It doesn't mean she deserved to code in the ambulance (JJ's blood runs cold at the memory). It doesn't mean she deserves to be lying on a metal table while doctors worked profusely over her mangled body to put her back together.

Was Emily still alive at this point?

JJ tries to remember if the paramedics got her heart beating again on the ride here, only sees the red line fall flat, hears the long, drawn out tone that pierces her ear drums.

JJ stifles a sob by biting down on her lip. She doesn't even register that she broke the skin until the hot, coppery taste of her own blood fills her mouth. She sucks the injured area into her mouth, pitifully wiping the excess blood off on her sleeve, far past caring.

She should have fought Strauss to stay behind with the team. She should have found a loophole of sorts, should have recommended someone way better for the undercover assignment.

She knows Emily better than anyone. She would have seen the signs before anyone had. She would have gotten to the bottom of what was wrong. She could have _been_ there for her. She should have figured things out _quicker._ She should have been at the room in the warehouse _faster_.

Emily getting hurt, possibly fatally wounded in the field is just another _fucking_ failure on her conscious. One more fuck up to add on JJ's growing list.

She doesn't even notice Hotch until he lays his hand on her shoulder, his fingertips barely grazing the thin fabric of her shirt. "JJ."

She swears she's never moved as fast as she does now: springing up out of the chair, brushing her hair back with her hands and wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks. She's almost thankful for the poor lighting in this hallway. It easily hides her red, swollen eyes. She considers it a small victory, especially when Hotch doesn't comment on her appearance.

"The surgeon gave me an update on Emily," he continues softly once he has her attention.

JJ sucks in a breath, mirroring his posture to hide how much her hands shake from her nerves. "What'd they say?"

"She lost a lot of blood," Hotch murmurs.

JJ's heart skips a beat, nearly fucking plummeting to the pit of her stomach, which clenches painfully. "Oh," she replies in a small voice, her eyes filling with tears.

"But they managed to get her stabilized," the unit chief continues softly, glancing down the way he must have came from, opposite of the double doors. "They think she'll be out for a few days, possibly a week, but they're certain she'll make a full recovery."

 _Relief_.

That's the very first thing JJ feels once Hotch's words sink in. She releases a shuddering breath, looking at the floor in disbelief. "That—That's incredible," she breathes out with a firm nod. "That's fantastic. I mean—" She runs a hand through her hair, almost laughing in amazement at the news. Emily was _alive_. In bad shape, but she would _live_ and that's all that mattered, wasn't it?

She finally looks up at Hotch with a nod, clasping her hands together and rubbing them slowly. "The team will be so happy to hear that she's okay. They must be so—"

"JJ..." Hotch starts to interrupt, his lips turned down in a slight grimace.

JJ ignores him because she _knows_ that tone all too well, and nothing _good_ ever comes after Hotch uses it. She has to know that there would have been a twist, that she couldn't build this perfect scenario in her head and live with it. Her life seemed to be filled with nothing but "wait, there's a catch!" situations the past few months.

 _Of course_ things couldn't be fucking _perfect._

"Especially Spence and Penelope," JJ continues on as if she hadn't heard her former boss, folding her arms across her chest once more. "They were both completely devastated when we came in."

"JJ."

"Derek might be a little bit pissed, but he'll get over it. Rossi, too, probably. I don't know about Ashley, though. God, this must be hard for her—"

"Jennifer," Hotch says firmly, his voice leaving no room for arguments. It's a commanding tone, one that makes her freeze on the spot, stare up at him with her mouth still hanging open in mid-word. She closes it quickly, looking at him with a pleading gaze, silently begging him not to continue.

His eyes soften slightly, though she can't tell with the lighting. "He's still out there."

JJ's shoulders haunch in defeat. "I know," she says in a small voice. She inhales sharply, rubbing her temples. "I know. But we can find him again. I'll stay behind for a few weeks to help. We'll all take shifts protecting her and maybe—"

"You know we can't do that, JJ," Hotch sighs quietly. "You know why we can't. He's incredibly dangerous and unpredictable. The whole team would be put into danger. Nothing will ever stop him from getting to her. If we set up a 24 hour surveillance on her, he'll find a way to get to her, even if it costs the lives of the people on this team. Next time, we might not be as lucky. As long as she's alive, Doyle will come after her."

_As long as she's alive, he will come after her._

The statement bounces around in her skull like a bouncy ball, making her head spin. She grips onto her own arms, throat constricting harshly. "What do we do then, Aaron?"

He looks away from her, tapping his foot against the ground. He focuses on the clock on the wall behind the nurse's station. "She never made it off the table. As far as everyone will know, Emily Prentiss will be dead," he says finally after a painfully long silence. "Keep her under the radar until she feels better then get her the hell out of the country under a new identity."

JJ stares at him in disbelief, going rigid at his words. "Are you serious?"

Hotch remains quiet.

"I can't— We can't _do_ this!" she hisses. "We can't just lie to the team like that, Aaron! It'll destroy them!"

His adam's apple visibly bobs when he swallows. "We can if it keeps everyone safe," he replies firmly. "We have to."

"What if it's never safe for her to come back?" JJ demands. "What if we never find him?"

Hotch sounds a million years old when he simply says, "Then we let her go." Softer, he adds, "It's safer that way. What other choices do we have, JJ?"

She pauses at that, angrily wiping at her tears because she _can't_ think of any other option, one that would keep everyone safe without lying to anyone. "Why tell me this? Why not keep me in the dark, too?"

"Doyle doesn't know about you. You've been away as long as he's been watching her. You'll disappear once you go back to Afghanistan. Safe," he replies. He then shoots her a glance, almost knowingly. It tells her that they both know why he told her, why he knows he can't acknowledge it out loud.

He _knows._

JJ's shoulders slump, her hands going back up to rub her eyes. It's not _fair_ because the rest of the team loves Emily, too. It's not _fair_ because they don't get to know the truth. It's not fair because this is _incredibly_ selfish, almost like she's keeping Emily to herself. It's not _fair_ because she's already at the end of her rope, and lying to everyone is just going to push her that much further towards the edge. It's not _fair. None of this is fair._

But, Hotch is right. What other choice do they have?

She shudders out into her palms, nails scratching at the top of her head. "They'll be devastated," she whispers.

"This decision is all on me," Hotch assures her firmly. "You had nothing to do with it."

She almost bites back how Emily doesn't even get a say so, how she deserves to choose this but her tongue feels heavy, weighed down in her mouth like lead. "No, it's not," is all she manages to choke out because she's just just as involved in this as Hotch is. And when the team find out, it's on her, too.

"I'm doing this to protect everyone, Jennifer. Including her," Hotch murmurs, resting a palm assuringly on her shoulder.

"I know," she murmurs thickly as the tears start again. They squeeze under her fingers, drop down onto the floor. "I know. I just—I wish..."

"I know."

She wipes her face free of tears, though fresh ones almost immediately replace the ones swept away by her fingers. She tucks her hair back and slowly makes her way to the double doors.

Hotch makes no attempt to stop her. He watches until she pushes them open with her palms before moving down the opposite way.

JJ feels like she's a stranger in her own body, as if the real her is sitting in a theater watching everything unfold behind her eyes, when she faces the concerned faces of her former teammates. She's staring at nothing, the tears falling down her face like a continuous stream. She feels numb to the word as the words finally fall from her lips, "She never even made it off the table."

Everything seems to happen in slow motion.

Penelope's grief stricken sobs echo throughout the room. Derek stands, staring at JJ in disbelief, as if he's waiting for this news to be a cruel, sick joke, tears threatening to spill. Rossi's hand covers his face, his shoulder trembling with the force of his silent sobs. Seaver looks hopeless and on the brink of tears, staring at her balled up fists sadly. Reid stands up, walking towards the double doors determinedly.

She catches his arm just before he reaches his palm out to push them open, staring up at the man through bleary vision. "Spence..."

"I never got to say goodbye," he wobbles out in a sob, collapsing in her arms. The sounds of his cries, his broken voice and the way he just _falls_ in her arms is something that will haunt her for the rest of her life.

She just grips onto him tightly, trying not to break down and tell him the truth right then and there. Instead, she stares at the wall behind him emotionlessly as the sounds of the team's grief mingles throughout the room. She refuses to tune it out, allows it to twist her stomach painfully with guilt. No matter what Hotch can say, she knows she's just as much at fault for keeping this secret from them. She's just as much at fault for causing their grief. She's just as much at fault for not doing her best to protect everyone.

All of this is just another _fucking_ failure to add on her conscience.

**Author's Note:**

> leave comments and kudos pls!! it's very encouraging!
> 
> also let me know if u guys like bc I know this isn't exactly the most creative type of story and its one of the most common in the jj/emily tag but i've tried to put my own spin on things so it's not something that's been done before
> 
> not quite sure how long this series will be (possibly 8 or 9 stories long?? and that's including slow burn flashbacks) but I already have nearly 6 parts written so :)))))))))))


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